Ralph Klein: One of the greatest natural politicians of his generation

Ralph Klein, who passed away Friday at the tragically young age of 70, is already being mourned as a kind of mutant genius of Canadian politics: Someone who led the way on fiscal responsibility in the 1990s and, despite that and his manifest imperfections, somehow was enduringly loved. He’s painted as a chubby Friar Tuck, a TV guy, boozer and eccentric.

Implicit is this question: However did this man manage to hang onto power through four majority terms and 14 years? Ah, but he had “the common touch.” Whatever that might be. And, after all, this is Alberta we’re talking about, right? They like their steaks, and their politicians, medium-rare-to-bloody (minded). Cue the supercilious smirk.

In fact Klein’s genius is not so hard to figure out. It was not some kind of magic pixie dust, nor mysterious in the least, and would not be so hard to emulate, should political leaders today wish to do so. The true mystery is that so few bother to try.

Klein never put on airs, or pretended to be better than anyone else. He was, in fact, an ordinary guy, and always remained so. But he was ferociously bright, for all that. He had a gift for trenchant, direct and honest speech. He applied common sense to problems. And he was authentic. He was not blow-dried, polished, talking-pointed, tele-prompted and packaged to death. That’s why, when he screwed up, which he periodically did, Albertans forgave him.

Klein did not suffer fools, foolishness or pointless bureaucracy gladly. He once famously skipped out on a round of Ottawa federal-provincial health talks, which he judged were going in circles, to try his luck at roulette at the casino in Hull, across the river. He was roundly tut-tutted by newspaper editorial boards. Klein’s many fans lapped it up. To them it was just another example of Ralph being Ralph.

Klein never bothered to try to hide his imperfections — or if he did try, he didn’t try particularly hard. That led to embarrassments, such as the time in 2001 that he drunkenly berated residents at an Edmonton homeless shelter. That episode led to a public apology and a pledge to go on the wagon. Years later, as he was about to leave office, Klein was heard to say that politics was “no fun at all” after he’d quit drinking. Once again, Albertans would have nodded, smiled and said: Yeah, that’s Ralph.

Here, though, is the crux of Klein’s political gift: He intuitively understood the natural, necessary balance between toughness and compassion. That made him, not a good leader, but a great one.

Through the fiscal austerity of the mid-1990s, later emulated with mixed results by Mike Harris in Ontario, Klein was decisive, but never mean or mean-spirited. He clearly empathized with ordinary folk: It was no act. As a result, paradoxically, Albertans allowed him the latitude to enact measures that required them to sacrifice.

Of Klein’s political contemporaries in the 1990s, only Jean Chretien came close to matching him in this regard. Certainly no other Conservative did.

And today? Nobody does. At a policy level, massive deficits and debt are once again the order of the day. Politicians in Canada no longer ask for or assume the moral authority to do the difficult and right thing. They play for short-term gain, and never mind the long-term pain. This, despite the fact that every government in the 1990s that delivered balanced budgets was rewarded with a subsequent majority.

Federally, Prime Minister Stephen Harper is so over-controlled and controlling that the country has forgotten it can be any other way. His press conferences are scarce as hen’s teeth. As a substitute for authenticity, the PMO Tweets photos of Harper’s cat, Stanley. Since winning his majority in 2011 Harper has branded himself relentlessly as the Hard Man Who Manages the Economy – so much so that he’s apparently forgotten the importance of being human.

Opposition leader Tom Mulcair, the Hard Man of the Left, appears only slightly more authentic than does Harper. Mulcair reads his House of Commons questions from a crib sheet and manages his caucus with an iron hand. Liberal heir apparent Justin Trudeau, meantime, on the all-important teeter-totter of toughness and compassion, still leans too much towards the soft.

But Ralph Klein, in his amiable way, had all these elements nailed. He had them cold. In a classical sense his humours were balanced — effortlessly so.

This is why he was, in many respects, the greatest natural politician of his generation in Canada. This is why his passing, at the very time of life when he would otherwise have been enjoying the honours of an elder statesman, is so sad.

I am a national political columnist for Postmedia News. My work appears in the National Post, on Canada.com, the Ottawa Citizen, Montreal Gazette, Calgary Herald, Edmonton Journal, Halifax Chronicle-Herald... read more and Vancouver Sun, among other publications. I write primarily about national politics and policy.View author's profile